A Holmes Family Christmas
by EliHarmonyVolkes
Summary: Basically filled with tropes and fanon. A fake boyfriend, meet-the-family type fic set at Christmas. TW: Mild homophobia
1. Prologue

A/N: Anything that you recognise in this story belongs to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle/BBC Sherlock. Anything that you don't recognise that is good belongs to my amazing beta: thecapefangirl (please check out her awesome fics), most of it is highly-overused fanon and tropes and the tiny amount left is mine.

This will probably be posted bi-weekly on Saturdays until December when it will be posted weekly but I will warn you if there's a change.

Merry Christmas everyone. (Yes, it's end of August but IDC).

-EliHarmonyVolkes (check out my profile for more info about me).

* * *

Prologue  
The snow danced down to Earth outside the window of 221B Baker Street whilst the fire inside glowed invitingly. Sherlock and John were each looking through their post - mainly Christmas cards - that they had received earlier that day. However, after reading one particularly long letter, Sherlock leapt to his feet and started pacing the room. Sensing something was wrong, John looked at him questioningly then patiently waited for him to explain.  
Sherlock mumbled to himself for almost two minutes with John being able to catch only the odd word here or there.  
"No...my fault...I told...shouldn't have...can't...unfair..."  
In the end, Sherlock seemed to come to a decision and turned to John, "Could you, that is to say, would you accompany me to my parent's house and act as my boyfriend as I may have accidentally told them I have one."  
John could feel his face flushing and, to avoid further embarrassment, hurriedly answered, "Sorry, I'm staying with Harry." He rushed to his room to continue reading his letters.  
A couple of days later, John received a text which both terrified him and made him feel ecstatic:

Soz, little bro  
Gotta cancel  
Clara + I together again  
-Harry  
xxx

Because he was older but smaller, John was annoyed at her use of 'little brother' but got over it immediately because it was amazing news. He told Sherlock that what had happened.  
"So, um," John blushed, "so about that, you know, thing, you asked me to do with the…"  
"Being my boyfriend. I assume you can join me."  
"Well, um, yes," John said, averting Sherlock's gaze. "I suppose I can now. I am more than happy to do it…I mean since you are my friend and all… not because…um, never mind. I am perfectly content to do this thing for you."  
Sherlock cleared his throat. He was determined he was going to keep his head about this whole debacle, "Good. I shall inform my parents at once."  
He turned around and began to walk towards the bathroom. He could not help the smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Sherlock told himself that it was a smile of relief, yet his fluttering stomach hinted at something different.

* * *

The next few days passed with subtle, longing glances between the two friends. Decorations were put up with a large tree in the corner. Thankful customers came by to drop a present or two. Mrs Hudson kept herself busy in the kitchen making a variety of Christmas treats and a holiday feeling filled the air in 221B Baker Street.


	2. 18 December

A/N: ok, here's the next chapter!

* * *

Chapter 1 - 18 December

It was a week before Christmas and two days before John and Sherlock had to trek to the Holmes household.

Whilst Sherlock wondered around the flat like his usual self, John had begun to fold jumpers in preparation of his trip. He brought out all of the usual jumpers that he wore: his beige patterned jumpers that caused no amount of teasing from Harry. But, since it was Christmas, he had to bring himself into the festive feeling.

John had a red jumper that one of his patients had brought him years before. It was not only red but covered in bottle green trees that stood out starkly against the dun brown of the reindeer's coat. The only problem was that it was hidden right at the back of his wardrobe on the top shelf.

After large amounts of jumping to get to it, John had to swallow his pride and ask for help.

"Sherlock!" He called out. "Sherlock, I need some help!"

There was no reply. John rolled his eyes. What should he expect from his friend? He was deep in his mind castle or whatever it was called. He was going to have to drag him himself to the cupboard.

John strode out of the room and on his way to the lounge. He was so busy muttering under his breath he did not see the tall figure coming in the opposite direction.

He bumped right into Sherlock.

"Oh, God, I am sorry, Sherlock. I thought you didn't hear me. I just wanted to ask you for your help…what are you staring at?"

Sherlock was looking above him. Coincidently they found themselves in the entrance, and right above them was mistletoe that Mrs Hudson had put up only an hour before.

John took a step back but Sherlock stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. His hand was warm and soft, John noted.

"We're going to have to do this at my parent's house anyway so we may as well practice now. It will seem more authentic."

John nodded. His stomach began to do flip flops as waited with bated breath for Sherlock to lean down. John closed his eyes as Sherlock's smooth soft lips captured his own. The room seemed to heat up while time slowed down. John's hands itched, for some unknown reason to him, to pull his friend into a tighter embrace and to feel his hands wondering about his hips and back…

He pulled back quickly as he realised his intrusive thoughts. Sherlock raised his eyebrow.

"I'm not gay," John said quickly. "I'm doing this as a favour because we are friends."

"I know, John," Sherlock said. "I never thought otherwise."

The doctor nodded and scuttled back into his room. He could still feel his lips tingling from the kiss; the thought of it made his stomach swirl.

He shook his head to get rid of the memory of the moment and proceeded to find a suitable, stable stool.

* * *

That evening, as they were watching a murder mystery and Sherlock was making his usual deductions, John became very aware that his knee was brushing Sherlock's. He turned his head to look at Sherlock's profile. Sherlock's thick, black curls were messy but in quite a cute way.

No! He thought. No! Sherlock is not cute! He is just looking more dishevelled than usual.

* * *

The next two days flashed by in moments: Christmas shopping in the icy wind. Hot chocolate by the fire. Watching some young children build a snowman. And every single brush of their hands. Every touch.


	3. 20 December

A/N: And it's that time again! This fic has been crossposted to ao3 and is part of the sherlocksmolmes/keepjohnlockalivecompetition. You can read it fully over there snd if you enjoy it, please vote for it on tumblr.

You csn find me on ao3 and tumblr as ILikeStopwatches. And now please read.

* * *

Chapter two - 20th December

All too soon, they were in the back of a cab and on their way to see Sherlock's family. They both held hands as they walked up to the house. The heat of the hands seemed to warm up the rest of John's body, including his face as they rung the front door.

Yes, that was right. All because of this warmth

"Ah, John, so nice to meet you at last," Mrs Holmes said, bringing John out of his memorised state. She engulfed him in a giant hug as she continued. "Sherlock's told me so much about you!"

"He has?" John asked as Sherlock - the great Sherlock Holmes - stared pointedly down at his feet and blushed.

Mr Holmes shook John's hand heartily, "Pleased to meet you."

"And you," John replied politely.

The house itself was a small two-storey house but was designed to be spacious inside. As John walked in, he was blasted with the heat from the fire; comforting smells of cooking wafted around his senses. It was probably one of the first Christmases that he had spent time in a cosy family environment.

"John, love, would you like a mince pie?" Mrs Holmes said as she ushered the friends towards the couch. "I made them myself."

"Uh, thank you, Mrs Holmes. I would like that."

* * *

They had settled down when a car drove up outside. John noticed Sherlock's clenched teeth and taut body. His hand that rested on John's knee squeezed unconsciously. It only meant one thing…

"That'll be Myc," Mrs Holmes beamed. She opened the door to reveal that it was, indeed, Mycroft.

"Mother, Father, John," he acknowledged, "and my little brother Sherlock."

"It's been so long since all the family's been back together," Mrs Holmes joyfully exclaimed as she swept the normally cold Mycroft into an enveloping hug. "It's been nearly 3 years if I remember correctly."

"You do," both Sherlock and Mycroft agreed, turning to scowl at each other for 'stealing' their line. Sherlock dug his nails into his palm. He could honestly not express the amount of aversion he had to his older brother, even if he wanted to.

The cold animosity between the brothers sent an ambience of awkwardness throughout the room. Mrs Holmes, though, was completely ignorant to mood. She put her arm on her sons' shoulders and walked them to the warmth of the fire.

* * *

"So, how long have you been together?" Mrs Holmes asked as she handed John a china cup of tea. She settled down on the couch opposite them and stared with interest.

John thought back to their prepared answers for questions like these. It had to be long enough to seem normal meeting the family but not so long that Mycroft would be suspicious.

"Just over 5 months," he replied.

"And why did you decide to get together after being friends for two years?"

God, does this woman have my entire life story memorised? John thought.

Sherlock answered this one, "We had to pretend to be boyfriends for a case and then decided we liked it."

The chat continued until, at almost 11, John yawned and realised he was very tired.

"You and John will be in your room, Sherlock, and Mycroft in yours. I have left them both as they were," Mrs Holmes told them. They nodded and thanked her before retiring upstairs.

This, John realised, was never discussed. He assumed that the Holmes couple would send them to separate rooms, but then again, if they were so open about his son having a boyfriend, why would they be averse to them sharing the bed?

John entered first into the room and stood awkwardly at the foot of the bed. Sherlock, though, calmly entered the room and sat on the chair that faced the window.

"I don't need to sleep. You have the bed," Sherlock said.

"Ah, um, thank you," John said as he shuffled to the bathroom. He changed from his itchy jumper into his pyjamas before he slipped into the soft covers of the double bed. It was a bit disconcerting, at first, with Sherlock in the room, but he was off in his mind palace. It wasn't long before John fell asleep to Sherlock's soft breathing.


	4. 21 December

A/N: Sorry, this is a day late but here's the next chapter!

* * *

Chapter three - 21st December

The next morning, they woke up bright and early. Each one wrapped themselves up in scarves, hats and coats to go for a walk in the snow. It was bitterly cold and John's face felt raw by the end of it but it was a great chance to explore the village. What amazed him the most was the festive lights that decorated the large tree within the centre of the village.

They did some last-minute shopping; the usual things like fighting villagers over the last bit of cranberry sauce, joining the rush to hid a present that was forgotten during the beginning of December, and refreshing themselves with a cup of hot chocolate down by the local café.

It was nearly dark by the time they had returned home. The Christmas tree was twinkling merrily in the corner, casting off a warm glow. They had some sandwiches whilst talking a bit more about what was going on in their lives.

John reflected how different it was to his own family. His abusive, homophobic father. His meek mother. His alcoholic sister. Their Christmases consisted of beer cans littered across the floor, an anaemic tree if they were lucky to have one and lash to his back for a present.

Even though they weren't proper boyfriends, John hoped he had found a new family in the Holmes'.

Time ticked by before John decided to go to bed again. Unlike the night before, he wasn't completely exhausted so he took a proper look around the room. The main part was a bookcase and while the bottom few shelves were dedicated entirely to non-fiction books, the others had fossils and rocks and bones on, all clearly labelled with a name and date. To the left of it was a wooden desk with a few more books stacked neatly on the side but mainly with piles of papers covered in a neat scrawl. The wardrobe was barely visible through the number of posters it had stuck on it such as the periodic table, identifying birds, a labelled diagram of the human skeleton and lots of complicated formulae, though none, John noticed with a smile, was about space.

He touched the curling corners of the fragile paper and wondered what a teenage Sherlock would spend each hour of his day doing. One moment he would pour over a book about the psychology of the human mind, while the next minute he would end up writing a thesis about the effects of different types of tobacco.

A smile played on his lips. A young Sherlock sounded so sweet, so innocent…so delicate.

John felt his face blush again. He had no idea why these thoughts kept popping into his mind.

I'm just tired, he thought. Everything will be clearer in the morning.

John slipped himself between the warm sheets of Sherlock's bed. It didn't take him long before his eyes drooped and sunk into a deep sleep.


	5. 22 December

A/N: So stuffs been going on with my WiFi and I can no longer access ff.n through home so I will have a bit more of a random update schedule but DW I will still be posting this

* * *

Chapter four-22nd December

The following day, he slept in until about 10 am and made his way downstairs to find a Full English Breakfast waiting for him. His hosts were all bundled up in their warmest clothes and huddled by the fire. Good mornings were exchanged and John sat down in front of the crispy bacon and eggs.  
"I hope you don't mind, John, that we had breakfast without you. Just tuck into the food on the table and I will bring you a cup of tea." Mrs Holmes said after kissing him on the cheek. John thanked her and tucked into the meal. The taste of the food was exquisite, but then again, most food does taste better when they are not stuffed in the same fridge as a human heart.  
For the rest of the day, Mrs Holmes locked herself in the kitchen to make food for their Christmas Eve party.

"Just a few friends," she had reassured them. "Now get out. I don't want to ruin the surprise I have in store for you."  
Sherlock decided to take John to the local park for a surprise. It was a quick 10 minutes away and they talked amiably all the while. They arrived to find an ice rink with people gliding gracefully over the smooth surface. Sherlock and John borrowed some boots and Sherlock skated off like a professional. John stared with envy at the graceful poise of the detective gliding across the ice.  
"Of course he can skate!" John mumbled to himself as he tentatively put one foot onto the ice. "Why shouldn't the great Sherlock Holmes skate?"  
John had barely put his other foot onto the ice before he slipped down, face first, onto the rink. A sharp pain bloomed from the bridge of his nose through to his temples.  
A hand rested on his shoulder. John turned his head to see Sherlock wordlessly gripping his arm to help him up.  
The next ten minutes was Sherlock guiding him through the throng of children and adults alike. They all were laughing and chattering in good humour, but to John, the world was silent. There were only him and his friend skating together side by side./p  
"How are you so good?" John finally asked him.  
"Every Christmas when I was younger, our family would come here," explained Sherlock.  
They skated together with the cold wind blustering in their faces for almost an hour. By the end of it, their feet were blocks of ice but the hands they held together were toasty and their faces were bright red. Whether it was from the cold or blushing, no one could tell.  
Sherlock and John arrived back at the house and watched a few Christmas films together. Dinner was a tasty lasagne and, afterwards, the roaring log fire was back on again. They exchanged stories of what had happened that day except for Mycroft who had "had important, top-secret government work."  
Mrs Holmes tutted and sighed, "I do wish you would stop working every day, Myc. It's Christmas."  
Mother, it isn't technically Christmas Day itself and if I were to cease working then the whole country would as well," countered Mycroft, "and as I have told you many times before, my name is Mycroft."  
Mr Holmes tried to awkwardly change the subject, "Sherlock, John, why don't you tell us about your latest case."


	6. 23 December

A/N; So my posting might be a bit random from now on but I will definitely post as close as i can.

* * *

Chapter five - 23rd December  
With one day to go until the party, John and Sherlock busied themselves with readying the house for the guests. In general, they tried doing as much as they could without getting under people's feet.  
Partway through the day, Sherlock and John found themselves under the mistletoe again. He could feel the heat of the Holmes' gaze, waiting in anticipation for the inevitable kiss.  
"I guess this is what we practised for," muttered John. He cupped his hand at the back of Sherlock's neck as they touched lips. This time John knew what to expect and he found himself being pulled deeper into the enchantment he was under.  
When Sherlock finally pulled back, they caught each other's eye. The feeling that flowed between them was electrifying and at that moment, John knew that he wanted more. The soft stroke of Sherlock's hand said that he wanted the same thing as him.  
"I'm trying to work," called Mycroft out in disgust.  
"Myc!" Mrs Holmes went over to him and lightly slapped him on the arm. "We don't need your unnecessary comments now."  
While Mrs Holmes berated Mycroft, John found his hand being interlocked with Sherlock's.  
"Sher…" John began, but he was cut off by a shift kiss on the lips. He was then pulled upstairs, back into Sherlock's room.  
The door to the room was barely closed before John's lips found his way to Sherlock's. His hands were entangled in the messy curls of the detective's hair, and Sherlock's arms were crushing him in the strong embrace.  
After a minute, John pulled away, but their foreheads rested upon each other.  
"So, do you want to date me?" John whispered.  
"Yes," Sherlock said before leaning into a deep kiss again.  
John mumbled against his lips, "Just so you know, I'm not gay. I'm bisexual."  
"I know," Sherlock pulled himself back and averted his new boyfriend's gaze. "John, I should tell you that I am asexual. I hope that you understand that…"  
"Sherlock, look at me," John said as he cupped the detective's cheek, "I love you for the man you are; your incredible mind, not because of sex," assured John before realising what he had said.  
"I love you too," Sherlock smiled as he rested his lips on top of John's forehead. "Let us go back before we are sorely missed."

* * *

The whole Holmes family went to a restaurant that night.  
"Another Christmas tradition of ours is to go to a restaurant on 23rd December," Sherlock told John.  
They entered the restaurant and although it looked small from the outside, the interior was bright and large. There was a wood-burning oven in one corner and the furniture was mainly polished wood with a few red covers. There was an ample choice on the menu so everyone tried different dishes, suited to their taste. The pizzas were large and very filling. When the desserts menu came around, they decided to probably act like a couple and ordered a cheesecake to share.


	7. 24 December

Chapter six - 24th December

The next morning, they were up early again to set up food. It was Christmas Eve and the party would begin at 5 pm.

Mycroft continued working on his laptop throughout but became increasingly annoyed at the addition of Christmas songs. He grudgingly agreed to go to the party as long as they "turn that infernal music off. "

Sherlock immediately started playing 'Jingle Bells' on his violin to annoy his elder brother. John began to chuckle at the antics of the two brothers but stopped when their mother glared at the couple.

The next few hours passed in a blur of fun jobs and sampling Mrs Holmes' recipes.

By the time 5 'o clock came around, it was already dark and the Christmas lights were on, giving the whole house a festive atmosphere. Soon, guests were arriving and although Mrs Holmes said it was to be a small party, it seemed like the whole street was invited. Sherlock knew everybody and, although he was normally socially awkward, he mingled freely as these were the people who he had grown up with and knew well. John stuck with him and felt thrilled every time Sherlock introduced him as 'my boyfriend'.

The majority of people were about Sherlock's parents' age however there were a few families with young kids running about. Christmas music was on in the background and John loved listening to Sherlock unconsciously humming along. He also loved Sherlock's deep voice as it recounted a case – the first case together, he realised with a shock. It was amazing to think how far they come together, both as detectives and friends and now boyfriends. He was drawn away from his thoughts by a young boy tugging at his hand, "Will you play with us?" he asked in a sweet voice.

John could hardly refuse and followed the young boy to a different room. There were lots of toys set out with six other children playing with them.

They all turned around at John's arrival and rushed to him, clamouring for him to play with them. He nodded and let himself be dragged into a game of trains which was comprised of pushing toy trains around a wooden track and doing impersonations of the 'mind the gap' announcement. Next, he had to sit through several lessons where they each took a turn and teacher and taught him the alphabet and times tables. After this, he was shocked to find that half an hour had passed so he told the kids to grab some food while he made his way back to Sherlock.

On the way, he passed a lonely looking teenage girl reading a book. "You okay?" he asked. She nodded in return. "What are you reading?" She held up the front cover of her book so he could see it. "Sounds interesting. Well, I'll leave you to it then." She nodded again and continued reading.

When John reached Sherlock, he squeezed his hand to show that he was back and try to understand the conversation.

"Swimming pool, "

"Where the boy died?"

"Exactly,"

"With a murderer?"

"Yes. So, at midnight, John and I were there, talking to Moriarty, "

John now understood what they were talking about: when they had met Moriarty at the poolside after all the clues. Sherlock quickly recounted the rest of the case and, in the end, muttered to John, "Let's talk somewhere that's quieter."

They moved to the kitchen and John couldn't help but eat a nearby cookie. He offered the plate to Sherlock who shook his head because eating was a basic human function that was beneath him.

"Sorry, it was just too loud in there,' apologised Sherlock.

"Don't worry," shrugged John, "I know you don't like being with too many people and I didn't know anyone anyway."

They sat in companionable silence for a while until John turned and kissed Sherlock.

"Boyfriend," he smiled. They kissed until the door opened and an angry-looking man came in.

"This is what is wrong with the world. We cannot celebrate a holy holiday anymore without a bunch of queers ruining it."

John felt his body tighten. He turned to the man and said:

"He makes me happy and if he happens to be the same gender, so what?"

Sherlock laid a calming hand on John's shoulder, "It is just human nature, John." To the man, he said, "My boyfriend happens to have served in the military a few years ago, so I do suggest you leave."

The man shook his head as he turned out of the door. John caught a few snatches of disgusting phrases as he left.

John was shaking in rage but stopped immediately when Sherlock embraced him. He calmed him down with his soothing voice. John ate a bit more before rejoining the party. It was five to nine so there were only close friends of the family left.

John was introduced to Sherlock's childhood best (and only) friend and although it was a bit awkward at first, they got on pretty well by the end of it. All too soon, the guests left and John felt the familiar sense of after-party tiredness. After promising to help clear up in the morning (he was so tired that he forgot it was Christmas the next day!), he stumbled into bed and fell asleep.


	8. 25 December

John woke in the morning to find Sherlock sleeping next to him. He probably deserved the rest because as well as the five days that they have been here, he had no idea where Sherlock had last slept and as much as Sherlock tried to deny it, he was human. John took the time to properly look at Sherlock; he looked so much younger asleep. His curls were ruffled and his face relaxed instead of the tense look or frown he usually wore. John couldn't believe that this man, the world's only consulting detective and with a brain capable of understanding things that John could never even dream of liked him, a boring army doctor. Just then, Sherlock woke and his eyes lit up like a child's would.

"It's Christmas," Sherlock announced gleefully and they both went to the kitchen to see everyone else.

After a quick cup of tea, then moved to the lounge where the presents under the tree were. They each selected a gift with their name on it and took it in turns opening them. Mycroft gave Sherlock a new violin, Sherlock gave his parents a set of books, brainteasers and DIY manuals, Mr and Mrs Holmes gave John a new watch and John gave Mycroft a new umbrella. Next, they cleared up last night's mess and Mrs Holmes started on the roast.

John and Sherlock took the time to go out for a brisk walk and it was icy enough that their breaths came out as visible puffs. There was a lone robin, hopping from branch to branch ahead of them and the hedges next to them were topped with snow. It had probably rained last night as there were puddles of glass-like ice dotted along the lane. They didn't pass anyone else on the way and it seems like they had the whole world to themselves. Sherlock wrapped his arm around John who relaxed into the touch. They turned onto a patch of grass and the frost crunched underfoot. The sound echoed into the air around them and Sherlock laughed with delight. John loved it when Sherlock laughed as it rarely happened. They returned to the house to find lunch nearly ready however there was just enough time to open the rest of the presents.

Mycroft gave his mother a new apron, his father a new laptop and John a few discounts to restaurants.

John gave Sherlock printed copies of all of Lestrade's cases in priority and difficulty order and Mr and Mrs Holmes a few CDs they had wanted.

Mr and Mrs Holmes gave Sherlock a subscription from a science magazine he had liked and Mycroft a tin of biscuits and chocolate.

Sherlock gave Mycroft all the cameras he had collected from the flat over the last couple of years and some board games they both liked and John several jumpers and some DVDs he had asked for.

After that, they sat in the dining room to eat their meal. They pulled the crackers, told really bad jokes and even Mycroft put on the paper crown. There was roast beef with creamy and crispy roast potatoes, boiled peas and carrots, buttery Brussels sprouts and flavoursome gravy. Sherlock didn't participate in the conversation and John almost laughed when he caught Sherlock reading the casebook under the table. The conversation turned to John's life pre-Sherlock and he recounted his dull life of average grades, studying at St Bart's and then the army. When he talked about getting shot, he gripped Sherlock's hand but managed to finish his life story.

Next was a beautifully-decorated Christmas cake that tasted even better. The raisins were succulent and there was a perfect ratio of icing to cake.

At 3 pm, they put the Queen's speech on and John had to stop himself standing to attention like the Beefeaters on the TV were! The Queen talked about how another year has passed and John thought back to this time last year. There has been a party in 221B with Molly and Lestrade and Mrs Hudson and John hasn't even realised his feelings for Sherlock. Before he knew it, John had daydreamed away the whole speech and a Christmas film has been put on. He leaned into Sherlock who wrapped an arm around him and with a dark, warm room and a full stomach, he fell asleep. He was safe and happy with Sherlock.


End file.
